


Places We Should (Never) Go

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Time, Fuck Or Die, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8166301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: Sam’s wandering hands and the kisses he’s managed to steal go a long way to getting Bobby hard - not that he doesn’t find Sam attractive anyway, but he’s rarely allowed himself to think of one of his boys like that.





	

Sam’s burning up, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. Pink lips are parted as he pants around heavy breaths, his body in overdrive as it tries to cool itself down. He’s plastered himself against Bobby’s side, clinging with strong hands as he rubs himself along the older man. Bobby tries to keep his eyes on the road instead of the desperate young man beside him or the flash of the Impala’s headlights in the rearview.

 

Fairies were always some goddamned bullshit, and this time was no different. Bizarre occurrences - homes suddenly covered in vines, businesses swarmed by insects, bouts of terrific and terrible fortune for seemingly random people - had brought Bobby and the Winchesters to the otherwise quiet town of Arlington, SD. They’re only an hour or so away from Sioux Falls, less with the way Dean and Bobby are barrelling down I-19.

 

Sam had unknowingly tripped one of the remaining curses left behind by the banished fairies, and now he’s clawing at his own clothes and Bobby’s, trying to get closer, more, anything to soothe the fire under his skin. It hadn’t been easy to separate the brothers until Bobby had quietly explained to Dean just what Sam had been whammied with, and that they needed to get back to his place _now._

 

They crash land back at the salvage yard at nearly 1 am, two hours since Sam first got infected. There’s only 22 left before the curse burns him up from the inside out. Dean opens the doors and hauls in bags while Bobby manhandles Sam upstairs.

 

“Please,” Sam gasps. “Bobby, please, please?”

 

Sam paws at his own clothes, fumbling and ineffective until Bobby takes pity on him. The TV starts up downstairs, volume cranking up high just as Bobby gets the first button undone on Sam’s flannel. The younger man is much more cooperative when Bobby reaches skin, letting him strip them both with only minimal groping.

 

It makes Bobby blush how easily Sam spreads his legs to make room for the older man between them, not flinching at the brush of Bobby’s slight beer belly along toned abs as he settles in place over Sam. This isn’t romantic, not in the least, but Bobby’s determined not to hurt Sam, at least. He’s got lube and dug condoms out of Sam’s own bag when it became clear just what was going to have to happen; Dean had given him a look, but when asked who he’d want to take care of him, Sam had whispered Bobby’s name just before he’d lost himself to the curse.

 

“Easy, kiddo,” Bobby murmurs, slicking his fingers and reaching down to circle them over Sam’s hole. He has to use his other hand to keep the younger man from getting too off-course with his need to touch. It takes time - more time than Bobby would like - to get Sam worked open. Sam’s temperature is still dangerously high, and he’s like putty in Bobby’s hands; Bobby has to keep replaying the moment of consent over and over in his head to remind himself that Sam okayed this, that Sam asked for _him_ , and it almost keeps the feelings of guilt at bay.

 

Sam’s wandering hands and the kisses he’s managed to steal go a long way to getting Bobby hard - not that he doesn’t find Sam attractive anyway, but he’s rarely allowed himself to think of one of _his boys_ like that. Not like he is now, with Sam’s flushed little hole tight around two of Bobby’s thick fingers, the dark curls around it shiny with lube. Sam has a pretty, thick cock; veiny like Bobby’s always loved, even though he’s had rare opportunity to appreciate it. He gives it a couple strokes with his lube-wet hand, going for more once he’s got the condom rolled on so he can slick his own cock.

 

“Yesyesyes, God, Bobby, please,” Sam wraps his legs around Bobby’s waist, grips at his shoulders to pull him in for a real kiss as Bobby lines up and pushes in. They moan together, Sam loud and long, while Bobby buries his face against sweaty skin to at least try to muffle the sound. Using the leverage he has in his position, Sam starts a rhythm of his own, face scrunched in discomfort even as he moans.

 

“Jesus, Sam,” Bobby grits, “don’t wanna hurtcha, ta-take it easy.”

 

“H-hurts. F-feels good,” Sam murmurs back. Regardless, he gives Bobby control of the pace, following instead of leading. He’s gorgeous, tanned skin sweat-shiny, eyes wide and dark, cheeks pink and delicate little lips just barely open as he gasps and moans in time with the rocking of Bobby’s hips.

 

Big hands grip Bobby tighter, pull him closer until they’re just breathing into each other’s mouths. Sam’s cock is trapped between them, tacky-wet against Bobby’s belly, and he slides one hand down to stroke it. Sam needs to get there faster, because Bobby’s so damn close after this long, with how tight Sam is. Still, it’s not until Bobby’s grunting with orgasm that Sam comes too, hot come slicking Bobby’s fist to make the last few strokes smoother than the rest.

 

It’s oddly quiet in the room, Dean’s TV still blasting downstairs nearly drowning out the sound of their panted breaths. Bobby’s careful pulling out, but doesn’t miss Sam’s wince; clearly, the curse had covered up some of the pain. With it gone, Sam’s tender and, in the dim light of the bedside table, Bobby can see how red and puffy it looks.

 

Ditching the condom, Bobby murmurs an apology and goes to roll out of bed, knowing Dean’s probably well into a bottle of something strong.

 

“Wait?” The word comes tentatively, and Bobby force himself to look Sam in the face. There’s the threat of tears at the corners of Sam’s eyes, bright even in the low light. “Would - will you stay? For just a little while. Please?”

 

Something sharp twists in Bobby then, and he nods, moving only far enough away from the bed to grab one of their shirts to wipe the come from them both. Sam works the covers out from beneath himself and curls up between the sheets, leaving a space Bobby is obviously meant to occupy. He stretches out with a sigh, offering an arm in invitation that Sam takes. Sweat-damp hair tickles Bobby’s chin as Sam curls up along his side, but he does his best to ignore it.

 

“You alright?”

 

Sam shrugs and sighs, breath ghosting over Bobby’s chest hair. “Sore. But I’ll be fine. Are - are _we_ okay?”

 

And that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?  The two of them have just had dubiously consensual, gay sex. Hell, Bobby doesn’t even know if Sam swings his way or not; none of them have ever explicitly talked about their orientations, the boys have just never asked about the closer-than-friends relationships Bobby’s had with hunters of various genders. Still . . .

 

“Yeah, Sam. I’m fine if you are. S’not exactly my first rodeo, though next time I’d rather do it without a damn curse.” The last part is out before Bobby can stop himself, and he can feel the way Sam stiffens just a little.

 

“You . . . you think there’d be a next time?”

 

“If you’d want. I’m not expectin’ anything, Sam. If this is a one-time thing, then that’s that. I’ll never bring it up again. If you want more, well. I’m not opposed to that.”

 

“Huh.” Sam’s quiet for a moment, and Bobby can practically smell the smoke from how hard the man is thinking. “Dean’s gonna murder us.”

 

“Dean’s gonna murder _me_ , you mean,” Bobby shoots back, relaxing as Sam does. “Now, be quiet. I don’t want to be thinking about your brother in the damn afterglow.”

 

Sam snorts, but obeys, snuggling in closer and throwing a long leg over Bobby’s. It’s damn comfortable, even if the kid is a human furnace.


End file.
